Getting Started

Kids,
I knew before you were born that I wanted to homeschool you. I've heard all kinds of reasons why I shouldn't, and how you will grow up to be sad strange little people. I've also heard many reasons why it's the most rewarding, best, and most fun job I'll have. Those reasons win by a landslide.

So if you do turn out sad or strange, don't blame me. I'm doing the best I can here, and I just really feel like you are supposed to be home with me. I want to teach you about the way God's world all fits together, and help you find His plan for your life, and nobody can do that better than I can. No matter how high your test scores are or if you can memorize all the important facts, that pales next to knowing without a doubt that you are God's creation and that He made you because He loves you. Public school won't do that, private school won't do it, and most of the time neither will Christian school. Family does that.

Besides, you are two of the funniest, smartest, most awesome kids to be around. Why would I not want you with me all day? Marian, you are barely five years old. The thought of sending you off into the world makes me sad. Neither one of us are ready for that yet. I want to be the one who sees your face light up as you sound out words and make connections. I want to kindle your love of learning and let you set your own pace as we go. I want to be able to take all the time in the world to do extra research on topics that interest you, and have the freedom to skip over something you already know how to do. I want to watch you interact with your sweet brother and help him grow.

I don't want to be that mom crying on the first day of school as she sends her baby away. And FOR WHAT? Why do we buy into the lie that other people can teach our children better than we can?

Tomorrow morning we start kindergarten. You won't be getting on a bus. I'm not packing you a lunch. We don't have to rush around in the morning feeling Nervous Tummy about meeting new people. We're adjusting our schedule just a bit to account for this new exciting work we're doing and all of the reading I'm going to be doing with you, but our days may not change that much. We're doing the things we always have, in the way we like to do them.

Last week I took you to Target and we looked over the kindergarten supply list for the school you would otherwise be attending. I gave you $27 in cash (because that's all I had in my purse) and we decided which things were a good idea, and which things we didn't need. We got the specific scissors they asked for, because you didn't have any like that, and we changed almost everything else on the list. We got a big pack of white paper to feed your drawing habit and some other office supplies, and then you wanted a new school outfit with the rest of the money. You ended up with a pink sparkly shirt and two pairs of shorts, a pack of glue sticks, some markers... it cost much less than buying everything they thought you needed, it's stuff you'll actually use, and you budgeted it yourself.

I am proud of you. No matter what we do together in school this year, I am proud of you and your spirit and your love and the way you're living your life. I'm so glad that I can be here every day to watch you do it. I'm glad your little brother gets to have you around to help him out. I'm glad we're a family.